


In Silent Lucidity

by lls_mutant



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-18
Updated: 2010-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:31:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: <i>someone comforts Gaeta after he's almost thrown out of the airlock in Collaborators. Bonus points if it's one of the Adamas</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	In Silent Lucidity

His father had dismissed it - well, not dismissed it, but not put much stock in it - but Lee couldn't get it out of his head. Twelve missing people was too many to be a coincidence. Especially with the tensions he was already noticing. The people coming up from New Caprica didn't have that "us against the Cylons" air that Lee would have expected them to have. They were far angrier, and that anger was much more insidious. It sent chills up Lee's spine.

He knew Jammer. Not well, but Jammer had been one of the knuckledraggers that had taken care of his bird long before New Caprica. Lee remembered dark eyes and a flashing smile, and a collection of bad dirty jokes that were either annoying as hell or hysterical, depending on Lee's mood. But he was a good kid, Lee was sure he remembered that.

Where would he go if he was Jammer? Lee had the suspicion Jammer was hiding from something... or someone. Where on Galactica would a knuckledragger go to be safe, to let something blow over for a few days?

He found himself wandering down by the storage bays. It made sense. There were bays down here that people rarely went near, although Lee made a mental note to remind his father about some of them to help house the influx of civilian refugees. It felt rusty down here, with still air, dim light, and a musty smell that permeated even the metal. There were old crates and boxes lining the corridors, many of them probably empty, almost all of them covered with dust. Lee imagined that if he was very quiet, he could hear the sound of water leaking into little puddles and pipes creaking with the effort of years.

He stopped. Wait, no. That wasn't his imagination. He heard something. Something human.

"Jammer?"

No answer, but the sound stopped. Whoever it was didn't want to be found.

Another time, another place, Lee would have respected that. Privacy was hard to come by on Galactica, and sometimes you just needed space for a thought. But the idea that one of the Cylons had slipped aboard Galactica and was hiding in the bay, waiting for the right opportunity to blow them all to hell entered his mind, and once it was there he couldn't get it out.

He stilled, straining his ears for the sound again. And if he listened very hard, he could hear the breathing. It was coming from his right, and he approached cautiously, walking as silently as he could and wishing he had a gun on him. As he got closer, he realized that the breathing was ragged, and he relaxed a hair. Probably not a Cylon.

"Jammer?" he asked again, and then stopped. Sitting between two crates, Felix Gaeta stared up at him, his arms wrapped around his updrawn knees, his face paler than Lee had ever seen him.

"Oh. Gaeta."

"Commander." Gaeta's voice was shaking, even on a single word.

"You okay?" Lee asked, even though the answer was an obvious no. He took a few steps closer. "Do you want me to get Dee?"

"No." It was almost panicked, how that came out. "I'd rather not... she... no."

"Oh." Lee thought about leaving, but something more was going on here, and he had a feeling that he'd better find out what it was.

Gaeta took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Why'd you think that I was Jammer?" he asked.

"Jammer didn't report for roll call this morning," Lee explained. "There's been several cases of missing persons."

"Several?" Gaeta's voice was sharp. "How many?"

"Twelve."

"They got... frak. I need to see the Admiral. I was going to anyway, but-" Gaeta started to stand, but he stumbled forward. Lee caught him.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah. My feet are just asleep."

Lee looked at the spot where Gaeta had been sitting. "How long have you been there?" Gaeta shrugged, and Lee realized he'd better tread carefully. "Do you know where Jammer is, Gaeta?"

"I'm not sure," Gaeta said. "But I know who the Admiral might want to ask. But..." he shook his head angrily. "Frak."

"Gaeta. What's going on?"

Lee fully expected Gaeta to tell him. After all, that was what happened. You asked Gaeta a question, he answered. Precisely, accurately, and promptly. You asked him for more information, he gave you a carefully arranged encyclopedic explanation. It was a law of the universe. What he was not expecting was for Gaeta to look away from him and to not say a word.

_Tread lightly_, something warned him. _Tread very lightly. There's a reason he's not answering._

For the first time, Lee wished he was a regular smoker. This would be the perfect moment to offer a cigarette. He felt around on his uniform, looking for some other offering. All he had was a flask. He pulled it out, unscrewed it, and handed it to Gaeta.

"Kind of funny, you know?" he said, as Gaeta cautiously took the flask, after a few minutes of staring at it apparently convinced him it wasn't going to explode. "You're my wife's best friend. You were in my wedding. And I'm sitting here without a frakking clue of what to say to you."

"Sorry I can't be more help." Gaeta took a drink and his eyes widened in surprise. "This is water."

"Well, yeah. What did you think?"

Gaeta hesitated. "Do you mind?" he asked.

Lee shook his head. "Go ahead."

He drank it thirstily, emptying the flask. It was a strange thing to be so grateful for these days. When he was done, he handed the flask back to Lee. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize." Lee shrugged. "It's water."

"No. I mean, sorry I can't help you with what to say. It's been a lousy day."  
"Yeah, I'm getting that idea. I might not know you well, but I find it kind of strange that you're holed up in a dusty corridor that people never use anymore."

Gaeta shrugged. His eyes unfocused, and Lee waited. Then, "Do you ever regret putting a gun to Tigh's head?"

"What?"

"Your father. He's so close to the Colonel, and he..." Gaeta sighed. "Especially after the Exodus, and everything the Colonel did to help us escape. He trusts him. More than trusts him."

Tigh, then. "Do you know where Jammer is?"

Gaeta wouldn't look at Lee. "I don't know that you're going to find him."

"What?"

Haltingly, Gaeta began to tell the story. A circle of unnamed people, who told him that he'd had a trial and been found guilty of crimes against humanity, and found it fit to execute him. Gaeta didn't give names, but Lee didn't press- he had one name, and that was enough to go on. He just listened with growing horror.

"How did you escape?" he finally asked, when Gaeta fell silent.

Gaeta shrugged. "Luck. I... I did what I could on New Caprica. I fed information to the resistance. But I had to protect myself, and my contact, so I set up a dead drop. The woman who helped me set it up died in the Exodus. I had no idea who I was talking to. And by sheer, dumb luck, it was someone in the Circle."

Lee whistled. "Frak. So they let you go?"

"They let me go," Gaeta said, and suddenly, it clicked into place. They had let him go, and Gaeta had come in here to hide and regroup himself. This had all happened in the past few hours.

"Frak," Lee repeated, and now he really didn't know what to say. He stared at the man standing in front of him with his head bowed and his hands shaking. He'd never realized how little he respected Felix Gaeta until he felt his respect soaring for him now.

"Listn," he finally said, when Gaeta didn't say anything. "You shouldn't be down here right now. And you shouldn't be alone. If there's one vigilante group out there, there might be more. Dee and I have quarters- come wait there. I'll go talk to my father."

Gaeta nodded. "All right." He didn't move, and Lee took his arm and steered him as if he as guiding a child. They began making their way out of the dingy, dark corridors.

"I don't know what's going to happen next," Lee heard himself saying as they walked. "But I will make sure that my father and President Roslin know what you've done."

"Thank you." The courtesy was automatic. But Gaeta looked up at Lee, and something raw and painful flashed in his eyes. "Thank you," he repeated, and there was a deeper meaning in his voice.

"You're welcome." Lee guided him back up to the light, and began to figure out exactly the words he was going to use to tell his father exactly what had happened, and who they needed to ask about the whereabouts of Jammer.


End file.
